But they did not reckon with the other factor.
It was the woman who died.
Was not his own situation far worse?
With his uncle living--but no, no, it was out of the question! Yet Ian Belward had been shameless, a sensualist, who had wrecked the girl's happiness and his.

He himself had done a mad thing in the eyes of the world, but it was more mad than wicked.

Had this happened in the North with another man, how easily would the problem have been solved! Go to his uncle and tell him that he must remove himself for ever from the situation?
Demand it, force it?
Impossible--this was Europe.
They arrived at Douarnenez.

The diligence had gone.

A fishing-boat was starting for Audierne.